The Family
by Kalims
Summary: Will gambles all and involves in a life that most people would consider bad and dangerous. While she still risks it all everyday, no thoughts of regret ever cross her mind. An ungly life can often be beautiful.


**The Family**

Smiling, I walked in the alley I'd gone through a thousand times. I took my time in walking because, on the few occasions that I'd gotten this way, I try to enjoy the view. I just couldn't believe how this place, which was a path leading to an abandoned apartment building, could mean so much to me. The darkness in this location had became familiar to me. I'd adapted to its quiet. It just felt like home. It _was_ home.

David was walking next to me, as usual; we were almost inseparable. He was talking to me about his girlfriend and her protective nature. ". . . and then she was like _tell me what have you done? _and then I said _shit, woman. I told you I can't say a word!_ I mean, gee. What is wrong with her?"

"David," I rolled my eyes. "it's actually pretty normal that she'd ask you about your actions. I mean, you came back to her with bruises on your face and marks on your body. How do you expect her to react?"

"She knew who I was and what I do when I first hooked up with her." He said to me, but in a voice that was not like his usual laid-back tone. He sounded serious and cheerless, and almost guilty.

"And her questions about your safety are just a proof of her feelings for you." I told him and watched a tight expression spread on his face. He never liked to talk about feelings and committed relationships. He was always the player, bad-boy looking guy who swayed every woman he liked into a hotel for a one-night stand. Always a one-night stand. And then after he left, he'd talk to me about them, and we'd laugh together.

But this girl was different. This girl, he never wanted to talk about her unless he was praising her beauty. He never could wait till he saw her again. He was serious about that woman, and I knew it only made it harder for him to talk about it.

David had a distressing look on his face as he looked down, "I'm just afraid that . . . that she'd find another guy–a _normal _guy." He said distinctly.

"And by normal, you mean?"

"Come on, Will." He gave me a weird look, and a weirder smile. "You know what I mean. Someone who isn't a criminal."

I frowned at him. "There's nothing wrong with whom you are." I said defensively. Jeesh, I hated when one of my friends starts to have second thoughts about the gang. It was just wrong–they didn't know the value of what they had.

"I know, I'm not saying that." I think David knew I'd get aggressive if he went on without correcting. His smile was wiped out his face as his expression went blank and unreadable. He seemed to be pondering and deep in thoughts. "Do you," He surprised me when he started talking again. I looked at him and he was staring at me. "miss it?" He asked. "Do you miss _normal_? I've been raised with the gang, so I've never known anything else. But you knew and lived _normal_. Do you miss it?"

His question was really worth contemplating. Weird; I'd always paused and asked myself the same question, and I always prepare the response but yet, I always find myself flabbergasted when asked again. The answer always needed to be proved and supported again and again.

What can I say? It'd been three years but I was still adjusting to this life. "I have mixed up feelings." I admitted to him. "Everything just changed. Before, I didn't have to wake up at ungodly hours." He chuckled, completely understanding me. "And I didn't have to watch over my shoulder to make sure no one is following me. I didn't have to carry a knife everywhere I go. Before . . . I could just exist. I had no responsibilities or worries."

"Responsibility and worry don't always mean bad." He said wisely, so he got a smack from me. We laughed, "I know. My past life was simpler, safer, and definitely more boring." I told him.

"So you prefer this one?"

I looked at the sky. It was dark, full of stars, and vast. The sky always reminded me of my liberty. I had obligation to the gang, of course, but I was somewhat free. "Yes." I said firmly. "I prefer this one."

"I remember when you first joined us, you were such a wimp." I smacked him yet again.

"I was _never _a wimp." I glared at him. "But new experiences scare you. They scared me." They sure did. I knew joining the gang would be changing a lot of things, but I wasn't really prepared for all of them. I had to go through a whole set of new experiences.

Like when I'd gotten my first tattoo. I was sixteen and fresh in the squad. My teammates took me to the store and they let me chose the one I liked. When I first came in I was reluctant, but I remember I got out smiling from ear to ear.

Then there was my first time in Juvenile. I was also sixteen, but six months after I'd joined. I'd cried myself to sleep every night, wishing I hadn't turned criminal. But I came out, and welcoming me back was my gang. My group. My family.

And of course, there was my first murder, my first scar, my first gamble, my first hostage, my first drug deal, etc, etc . . . some good experience, some bad.

"And you don't think about going back? To Heatherfield I mean." David asked me curiously.

"Nah," I said without hesitation. "I don't think my Mom would be actually thrilled seeing me like this. Plus, I've changed. I wouldn't stand the normal life again."

"You think she'd even recognize you with your long hair and accent?" He grinned at me. He made a good point there; I had to learn and speak so many different languages that English had felt like a foreign tongue to me.

Suddenly, David's phone rang. He stopped in his tracks and took it out of his pocket. He looked at the caller's ID and I saw his green eyes harden. Knowing it could only mean one thing, I stood next to him and listened silently as he pressed the phone against his ear. "Yes, boss." He said solidly. A few moments, and I heard the distant voice of Grim as unclear noise on the other end of the line. I watched as David nodded. "Understandable, chief . . . yes, yes . . . right away, boss." He closed the line and sighed. "I have to go. A new shipment is coming and I'm needed at the harbor."

"Did he ask for me to come, too?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. Grim was an ass, and though I hadn't been home for three weeks because I'd been roaming from place to place to complete the task he'd assigned me, I knew he wouldn't hesitate in sending me to another mission.

But David shook his head, proving me wrong. "He only asked for me." He grinned cockily. "I, and only I."

"I'm dying of jealousy." I said wryly. "It won't take you more than a couple of days, right?" I said hopefully. It had been a long while since I'd spent some decent time with David, and I missed him.

He shrugged in response. "Who knows? Maybe the police would buzz in. Recently, the Interpol's been nosing around too much."

"Tell me about it." I sighed, but rather absently. I was thinking about what he said. _Who knows_. He was right. You never know when everything could go wrong. Maybe David would never come back, because he'd get arrested. Maybe he'd leave and never come back because he'd die. In the gang, our lives were always at risk.

"Bye, Red Meat." He said as he hugged me. I wrapped my arms around him briefly before we pulled apart. "See you soon, hopefully." He said as he started to walk away.

"Take care. And tell Bianca I said hey." He stopped only to look over his shoulder and smile sadly at me before he went off.

I sighed as I carried on my walk home. As I marched, I prayed David the best. He was the closest to me among the gang. He was the one who showed me the _other _life, back when I was in Heatherfield. I'd met him by accident. We bumped into each other at the beginning, and then saw each other in different places. We'd finally met properly one day, and we became friends.

But, it turned out that the eighteen year old blond and friend of mine was in town on an assignment set by his boss as I once caught him aiming the gun at someone. He'd explained to me everything, and told me the truth. He trusted me enough to do so. At first, of course, I was frightened. One of my best friends' father was a policeman, so I had thought about going to him. But David _trusted_ me and I just hadn't have the guts. I even hang out with him more and more, until I was almost involved. Originally, I had thought I was embroiled, but then I found out that I willingly and wholeheartedly accepted that kind of life.

So I'd left school and left my family and my friends. I ran away with David when he finished his mission. Grim accepted me in his gang, and David's friends soon became mine. They became my brothers and sisters, and though Grim was sometime a serious pain in the butt, I cared for him and would kill if anyone hurt him. Literally.

Finally, I reached it. My home. The 'abandonment' apartment. It was isolated looking on the outside, but on the inside it was really well furnished. More than just well furnished, actually; the boss really did make sure his team was satisfied and merrily living.

I opened the door with my key, ready to fall asleep as soon as I hit bed. But suddenly, I felt something run over me.

Quickly reacting, I grabbed the neck of that person and managed to tackle him down and fix him to the ground. Pulling my pocket knife out of my right shoe, I put it close to his neck. "Who the fuck are you?" I asked menacingly.

Next thing I knew, the lights were on and I could hear Jasmine's distinctive voice. "Told you you're clumsy." And then I found myself holding a knife against Josh's neck.

"Will . . ." He swallowed heavily. I took the blade away, but didn't get off of him.

"You bastard," I smiled joyously. "When did you get out of prison?" Before he could answer, I jerked my head toward Jasmine and finally got up to go give her a hug. "Came back from France already?" I asked as I pulled away. Jasmine in I had a lot in common, she was one hell of a girl. And Josh . . . clumsy stupid Josh. Nobody told me he was out.

"I came back early 'cause Le Loup changed his mind and decided not to do the operation." The blonde told me as she casually played with a lock of her hair.

"Really? And Grim didn't have any problem?" I asked in disbelieve. In the mobster world, if you accept a deal, you go through it till the end. And Grim especially loved to play by the rules.

"No. He told Mark to put a bullet through his head." She laughed. "His men are roving all of France looking for us." She told me grinning. I grinned back at laughed at her words.

Three years ago, I wouldn't have found this funny. Three years ago, if somebody told me he killed someone I'd freak and may even lose my conscious. But three years ago, I hadn't been the person I was now.

I'd seriously changed. I became more daring, more spirited, and more mature. Life had taught me a lot. But I also did illegal operations. I kidnap and kill people. I take part in dangerous, dangerous deals with harmful groups and individuals that could backstab and kill me if I let down my guard for just one second.

However, and despite all of that, I wouldn't give up my place in the gang for the world. They were my extended family, and I loved them.

When one of my team gets beaten down, I see how everyone goes to the rescue. When someone goes to jail, I watch as they try their best to get him out and take him back into their shield. And when someone gets killed, I see how they hunt the responsibles down and get revenge in the name of the deceased.

Can't you see beyond the violence and aggressiveness of my describing? I'm talking about people who'd be there for you no matter what happens. People who'd risk their lives for you. Factually. When I was in Heatherfield–in a normal, safe life–I'd hear about this kind of affection and friendship, but I never got to see it. Why? Because nothing ever happens to you.

Once in a gang, you'd see the proof right before your eyes. I wanted to be able to touch the proof. And so I managed, even if it meant not feeling safe for the rest of my life.

I see blood, hear screams, and face danger every day. But I also feel loved, protected, esteemed. I feel self-respect as I discover my real potential. I also appreciate the value of every single day, because I've learned that you never know when it might be your last.

And, right then, I realized that the answer to the ever-fundamental question didn't have to be reminded of repeatedly. I realized I'd always know how much I prefer this life over the past one.

Because only in a world of danger, deceit and ravening, you'd find honesty and true, true love.


End file.
